


One more time

by Colonel_Moriarty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colonel_Moriarty/pseuds/Colonel_Moriarty
Summary: Pre- Reichenbach. Sebastian knows everything. And it is getting closer to the final curtain fall.-An attempt to delve deeper into Jim Moriarty's psyche and his relationship to Sebastian Moran-





	One more time

His hand didn’t shake when he lit the cigarette he had fetched from the inside pocket of his coat. It surprised him how calm he was now as he stood with him on top of the building, overlooking the nearby buildings. In the distance he could see the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral and in the far distance the tip of The Shard.

They were still silent and had been since they had stepped out of the car and into the hospital. It was almost humorous in a dark and morbid way how the man next to him would not find any doctor here who could help him with the sickness that had befallen him since he had been a teenager.

A sickness of the mind. Incurable. And they both knew that it had to lead to this point.

Or rather he had been made to understand that it had to lead to this point. When the other man had told him for the first time what he was planning, he had refused to believe him. Had refused to listen. And had ultimately refused to accept what he just had been told.

For a week they had not spoken a word with each other and he had even considered moving out.

But then he had walked in on him one day after a hit and had found him staring motionlessly at his laptop. He didn’t even acknowledge his presence. And when he had snapped back out of it, his taller companion could tell that he had fallen into what others would call a deep depression.

But it was more than that.

And it was far worse than that.

Because there was no fancy pill, no medicine, no magical herbal tea, no cure. And unlike other incurable illnesses this one could not even be detected by modern medicine. Not in a way that would be comprehensible to any doctor or therapist.

The smaller man liked to call it ‘ennui’ when trying to sound fancy.

But they both were aware it was worse than simple boredom every person felt at times. Because no matter what he’d do, he’d always return to this point in his life when nothing was worth being talked about or thought about. Because nothing really mattered in the end. His mind was simply too vast for this restricting body and this restrictive world.

For a while it had gotten better. When that detective had stepped into their lives.

He had hated him but by now he knew it was jealousy. His partner had rejoiced because finally he had found somebody with a similar mind. Somebody who could offer him all the riddles of the world and vice versa. They were made for each other!

Until he had discovered the first flaws. And the more he had unravelled the detective’s mind, the more he had to become aware of the terrifying fact that there was no match for him in this world. And that he could never find anything that would save him from feeling so lost inside his own mind. So lost in an emptiness that was painful to endure.

————————————————----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking a deep drag the taller man pulled his coat collar up, cursing the cold wind up here. He had never liked the cold. And he had never grown overly fond of London. Then his eyes darted to the man by his side, who still stood there in an almost meditative silence.

„So…this is it then, right? The final chapter in the Great Game?“

The smaller man arched a brow then shrugged.

„You’re making it sound way more dramatic than it is. Are you going to write a book about it?“

The half smoked cigarette was flung down the building with a quick snap of his finger.

„You’re going to die. As if that’s not dramatic enough. And, God, no. Who’d read it anyway?“

There was a hint of a smile on the smaller man’s face now, almost a mischievous one.

„So not much difference to your other two books, hm?“

The taller man blinked then gave a short, coarse sounding laugh.

„You’re such an arse. Be glad that I’m not doing the work for the detective by kicking you down the building right here and now. I deserve a much better treatment.“

For a moment the silence returned, stretching out between them. Heavy. Dark. As vast and endless as the universe. It felt as if somebody was choking him and this time his fingers trembled as he reached for another cigarette.

Then the smaller man was suddenly next to him, lacing his fingers together with those of his taller companion.

„Yes. You’re right. You do.“

The man dropped the cigarette and bit back a curse. Instead he gave that hand a firm squeeze.

No other word was exchanged there and then. It wasn’t needed.

The Great Game had reached its final stage.


End file.
